


Baby Blues

by morganoconner



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: Babies, Crossover, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-17
Updated: 2010-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 05:57:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean did not expect to open the door to this surprise…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Blues

Bright blue eyes peer out from underneath a nest of blankets and a mop of dark hair, but it’s not the startling shade of azure that Dean notices first. It’s the almost serpent-like slit pupils.

“What the…”

“Dean?”

Dean turns startled eyes to his angel, who has come up behind him with a worried frown, and gestures frantically down at the ground, where the basket cradling the tiny child is sitting innocently.

Castiel steps around him and glances down, and his eyebrows shoot up. “Oh dear…” he says, and it’s in that tone that Dean hates, because it always means Very Bad Things for him.

“Cas? What the hell is that and why is it in front of our house?”

Bending down, Castiel very gently lifts the baby and blanket out of the basket, holding it in his arms as though it’s precious. Dean refuses to find the picture in any way endearing.

He _refuses_ , damn it.

“Please refrain from thinking of my niece as an ‘it’,” Castiel says, keeping his voice pitched low and soothing while he rocks the snuffling baby slowly to sleep.

“Your… _niece?_ ” Dean gapes.

Castiel nods. “I apologize. If I’d had any idea that they would… But of course, they couldn’t have said anything without alerting the Host.” His eyes find Dean, and he flushes a little at the hunter’s slack-jawed gaze. “My brother Aziraphale…it’s his child. His and…Crowley’s.”

Dean’s beginning to wonder when Gabriel is going to pop out and say “Gotcha!” because this is _just_ the type of stunt he would pull. “You have a brother who somehow magically had a child with a demon. Is that what you’re telling me?”

Castiel blinks once slowly, and tilts his head to the side. “Well, I doubt there was magic involved, in the strictest sense. It _is_ still possible for two angels to be granted the miracle of a fledgling, though it’s a rare phenomenon.” His gaze goes to the child in his arms, who is silent now, except for the wet sound of a thumb being sucked. “The problem, of course, is that Crowley is one of the Fallen. Any child of such a union would be in danger from either side.”

Dean is still having trouble wrapping his mind around any of this. “An angel and a demon have a kid together. And somehow it’s _here_.”

“ _She’s_ here because she isn’t safe anywhere else,” Castiel snaps. “Because you can rest assured, Aziraphale would not give up a child of his own unless he had no other choice in the matter. Nor, I think, would Crowley.” Since the averted Apocalypse, and his own subsequent tumble from Grace into sudden humanity, Castiel has seen his brother, and it seems his brother’s demon as well, a handful of times that Dean knows of. Enough that he looks as though he’s very positive of what he’s saying.

“So…what are _we_ supposed to do with…” Dean swallows at Castiel’s look. “…her?”

Castiel is quiet for a long moment. “They would not have planned this. It must have been very unexpected. And the two of us have my Father’s blessing and are hidden from the Host… I think perhaps they mean for us to take her in as our own.”

“Of course they do,” Dean says faintly, because why the hell wouldn’t they?

He’s starting to think Gabriel’s not coming. He would never be able to keep the cackling laughter at bay this long.

_Fuck._

“Dean?” Castiel’s eyes are imploring, and so damn hopeful, and of course he isn’t going to be able to do anything with that except for sigh and give a single nod of acceptance, and watch his angel’s eyes light up with pure joy.

“If we’re going to keep her, I guess she’s gonna need a name,” Dean says, and unbelievably, he finds himself fighting a smile, because… well, hell, she’s _damn_ cute. And…he’s always wanted a family. And if this provides any sort of link between Castiel and _his_ family, it’s a good way to keep the fallen angel happy.

“I was thinking of Amaris,” Castiel replies quietly. He’s stepping forward, very carefully placing the baby in Dean’s arms before Dean has time to form even half a protest, and…

…Oh.

Her eyes have opened again, and she’s staring up at him with an expression of such utter trust that his heart clenches painfully, half-forgotten snapshots of times past running through his mind in an instant. He can do this. _They_ can do this. “Amaris,” he murmurs. “Yeah, I can go with that.”

  
Somewhere close by, an angel and a demon watch the little family with soft sighs. “My dear, do you really think she’ll be all right?” Aziraphale frets, wringing his hands together, trembling just the smallest bit.

Crowley’s arm comes up around the angel, holding him close, his eyes hidden by the dark shades he wears. “I think she’ll be wonderful, Angel,” he replies, his voice carrying a wistfulness neither would have expected.

They both know it’s for the best. And at least this way, they can be reassured that she’ll be happy and loved, no matter what.

They stay and watch only a moment longer, and then with no more words necessary between them, they leave for the quiet comfort of home with nothing but a whisper of sound.


End file.
